Manufacture
by Samuel MacIntyre
Summary: ST: 2009, Spock/Kirk/Chekhov. Chekhov is sold into slavery, to be broken and reformed. He is purchased by Spock, the young son of a lord from a neighboring kingdom. Rated M for future chapters, as this story will, at some point, get down and dirty.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is an introduction to the story. The 'Manufacturer' does not have a set name or character yet. Please be patient with me?**

They were always the same at the end of the night. By the end of the night, without fail they were broken, sometimes bleeding, and always watching him with eyes that were glazed and absent. Without fail they would have stopped struggling against their bonds, would be laying still, waiting for his commands.

But he never commanded them. It was his job to break their minds and bodies, to turn them into proper, mindless slaves. The only person that would ever give them commands would be who bought them. The men and women that took these broken minds from him knew how to mold them to what they wanted. He was just... A manufacturer.


	2. Chapter 2

Pavel curled up against the cold bottom of the cage. The steel was frigid against his bare side, but he couldn't summon the energy to move. The wounds on his back and his thighs were still raw, making him more reluctant than ever to move.

He didn't think he was quite broken, yet. Though the man had beat him until he couldn't move, couldn't even make sounds, he didn't think he was broken.

The door of the cage creaked open, slamming back against the bars with a metallic clang. The boy flinched back from the bars and covered his head with his hands. He knew what was coming; he would be dragged out and 'trained'.

"Get up." The voice was metallic and cold, fed through a voice changer so Pavel couldn't identify it. A voice with no characteristics was a voice that a slave couldn't get attached to. He got to his feet without a sound, shaking from the pain. At a motion from one white-gloved hand he limped out, holding out his hands for the required shackles. They had become such a fixture of his life that he didn't resist when they were locked around his wrists.

A chain was clasped onto the shackles and pulled sharply. Though he stumbled he followed wordlessly. The chain and shackles were soon joined by a rough, ragged blindfold tied viciously around his eyes. Hands on his back shoved him forward, over the uneven floor of the slave quarters. He could feel the stares on him as he was led through the halls.

It was normally the other way around; owners were brought to the Cages to see the slaves that were for sale. The fact that Pavel was being led out through the halls said that this was too important an owner to be brought down. Whoever was pulling the chain on his wrists stopped and shoved him back a step. "Wait here." It was the cold metallic voice again. Pavel stopped, the floor smooth and cold under his feet.

"This is the newest one, Master Spock," the metallic voice said. Pavel heard a chair creak as someone stood. Presumably this Master Spock.

"Thank you. You may leave us."

"Of course." The Manufacturer walked out, and Pavel heard the door shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I was asked to make Spock be nice to Checkov. As tempting as it is for me to do so, we'll have to see. I was watching reality TV as I was writing this, and it put me in a strangely sadistic mood.**

Boots crossed the floor and came to a stop in front of him. A hand caught his chin and turned his head this way and that. The thumb of that hand forced his mouth open and pushed on his tongue, moving it around. Pavel stood perfectly still and didn't resist the manipulation of his jaw. The thumb ran over his teeth and pulled his lips down so the Master could examine him. The thumb left his mouth, and the hand pushed his head back. Fingers stroked over the tendons in his neck, felt at his Adam's apple, and moved downward.

Checkov audibly swallowed as the Master's hand traced down his chest. Fingers felt at his rib bones, traced over his naked hips, and slid farther down. The hand pushed his legs apart and cupped his member, holding it away from his body. The boy fought back a terrified squeak as the hand moved farther back and two fingers rubbed over his entrance.

The Master must have felt him tense because the hand withdrew from between his legs. The blindfold fell away from his eyes, and he immediately closed them.

"Look at me." The voice was almost as cold as the Manufacturer's was. Pavel obediently opened his eyes.

The face he saw was young and pale. Immaculately straight black hair framed the face. The Master had dark eyes and thin, upswept eyebrows.

"My name is Spock. You will address me as Master from now on. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master." His voice sounded pathetically weak in his own ears, and he dropped his eyes.

"Look at me." Pavel's eyes immediately snapped back up to the Master's face. "There are clothes over there." One hand pointed to a low table, bearing a white shirt and leggings. "Dress yourself."

"Yes, Master."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Pavel's accent = Fail. I apologize in advance for this. If you've seen the movie you know how he sounds, so just... I dunno, extrapolate.**

Pavel padded to the short table and picked up the shirt. He pulled it on, wincing as it dragged over the whip marks on his back and arms. The leggings were worse; the fine white fabric tore the scabs off the marks on the backs of his legs and made them bleed. He suppressed a cry and pulled them on anyway, settling them on his hips.

"You are bleeding." He hadn't hear Spock approaching him, and the sound of his voice made the boy jump. "They whipped you here..." A finger trailed down his spine, making him arch, "and here, did they not?" The same finger trailed down his thighs and Pavel shuddered. "You may speak."

"Yes, Master. That vas part of my training; to be vhipped and to learn to vithstand pain." His voice still sounded weak in his own ears.

"What else did they do to you?" When Pavel didn't immediately answer, the Master's fingers pressed on one of the whip-marks lining his spine. The boy very nearly cried out, shuddering with the pain. "Answer me, boy."

"Zhe rest of my body vas trained to accept pain as vell. I vas conditioned so zhat my Master vould be able to use me in vhatever manner he vished." The fingers didn't withdraw from the whip-mark; in fact, they pressed more forcefully into it. Pavel couldn't keep himself from crying out rather loudly from the pain.

"It seems you're not as conditioned to accept pain as you think." With one last savage twist that nearly brought Pavel to his knees Spock's fingers pulled back. "Now that you have ruined those leggings and that shirt, take them off. You will have to come with me naked, I suppose."

The boy obediently pulled off the shirt and the leggings. Both were spotted and streaked with his blood. He could feel a drop of it running down his back from the gash that the Master had assaulted. "As Master wishes." He barely had time to put the shirt and leggings back where he had found them before Spock's fingers were twisting into the wound again. The sudden pain made Pavel cry out and sent him to his knees.

"I will have to have words with the man who made you like this. He has not conditioned you very well at all. Back on your feet, boy." He got to his feet, unsteady and shuddering with the pain.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Okay. So. Around the middle of December something happened with my laptop's boot sectors and I had to reformat my drive. In the weeks since, I have been trying to get the entire system I have up and running again. Thankfully, I seem to have done it now. So this update is dedicated to Myrrh, my tech-support junkie. This update is also dedicated to Zelda12343 and IchigoPudding, who have read and reviewed all the chapters of this story. Thanks you two.**

Pavel obediently trailed after the taller male. The asphalt of the parking lot scorched the soles of his bare feet as they walked. A simple black towncar was waiting for them, a man that was presumably the driver standing at the passenger side door. The driver had scruffy blonde hair and blue eyes that latched curiously onto Pavel's naked form.

"Thank you for waiting, James."

"Of course, Master Spock." The blonde man inclined his head and opened the door. "Will the boy be riding with you, or is he walking behind the car?"

Spock's implacable black eyes turned and looked Pavel over. The slave ducked his head, looking down at his bare toes.

"He will ride with me, James. I will not make him walk barefoot."

"As you wish, sir." Spock slipped easily into the car and motioned for Pavel to step in after him. It was a relief to have soft, luxurious carpet under his feet instead of scorching pavement.

Pavel almost made it onto the seat before Spock's fingers dug into the wounds on his back, sending him to his knees. "On the floor, boy."

"Y-yes Master," he gasped out, his gaze turning to the carpeted floor of the car.

The car hummed to life under them as Pavel sank to his knees. The engine practically purred as the towncar pulled out of the lot, carrying Pavel away from the home he had known for the past few months. He stared down at the carpeted floor, not sure if he should cry at the loss or for the fact that he was out of there.

Spock rested one hand on the boy's tousled curls. Pavel's head snapped up, blue-green eyes startled and wide. "You will not have to return there, boy. You are away from that life now."

"I understand, Master."

Spock's almost emotionless face twitched into something that was almost a smile, and the hand on Pavel's head withdrew. "You may rest, if you wish. The drive is long, and James is not a fast traveller."

Pavel curled up on his side and pillowed his head on his arms. With a glance up to the dark-haired, impeccably groomed male sitting over him, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I'm going to try and get at least one update every two days for the next little while. Since these are such short chapters, I don't foresee a problem. But at the same time, when Spock starts to warm to Chekhov I don't think I'll be able to do little jumps like this. Anyway, enjoy.**

Pavel was roused from his doze by Spock's boot rolling him over. "Wake up, boy." He slowly opened his eyes; James was holding the door open for Spock to step out. The sky outside had deepened toward sunset, but after being asleep for so long even that soft light made him blink and rub at his eyes. He whined softly as Spock's boot nudged him again, raking over the whip marks littering his skin.

"Y-yes, Master." He slowly unfolded himself from the floor of the towncar and stepped out. The evening air was cool enough to make Pavel shiver softly.

"Take him inside, James, and show him to his room." Spock was already walking toward the large, lavishly appointed house at the end of the drive. "And then come to my room."

"Of course, Master Spock." James sketched a bow and waited until Spock disappeared into the house before turning to Pavel.

The slave looked down at the toes of James pristinely polished shoes. "Oh, don't be shy around me." Pavel looked up again. James had taken off his cap and was running his fingers through his scruffy blonde hair. "I'm not much better than you, y'know. Master Spock owns my body and my loyalty, just like he owns yours. I'm just... Well I'm his favourite, I guess."

"Is zat vhy he called you to his room?"

James' cheeks flushed lightly and he nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. C'mon." Putting his cap back on his head, he motioned for Pavel to follow him.

They didn't take the same path that Spock had. Rather than leading the boy to the main entrance of the house, he led Pavel across a path lined with smooth white gravel and up to a side entrance. "This way. I'm sure Spock wouldn't want you wandering around the halls naked as the day you were born."

The boy made a strangled little sound in the back of his throat and let his hands drop to cover himself. James just chuckled and held the door for him.

The next while was just a blur for Pavel. He was washed, dressed in a clean white cotton shirt and black leggings, and his tousled curls were wet down and brushed smooth. All in James capable hands, of course.

"One more thing, Pavel." James held up a thin collar of glossy black leather, edged with silver. "Master Spock would want you to wear this."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Okay. I know this chapter gets a little off topic, and the next few chapters are going to get off topic as well. There is a /point/ to this. Believe me, please?**

"V-vhat? Zat?"

"Yeah. Master Spock makes us all wear one." James tugged down the collar of his shirt with one finger, showing the glossy, silver-edged band of leather around his throat as well. "It wouldn't be fair to put one around the throat of every other person and not have one around your neck."

Pavel swallowed raggedly and closed his eyes. James fastened the collar around the boy's throat, and it locked behind his neck with an ominous click.

* * *

"Master Spock?" James knocked on the door to his Master's office once before pushing it open. "The new boy is settled in his room comfortably enough. He doesn't enjoy the collar."

"None of them do at the start." Spock set down the papers he was looking over. "Thank you for your help, James."

James smiled and took off his cap, setting it on the corner of the desk. "You don't need to thank me, Master Spock. I'm just doing my job." He undid each of the buttons on his shirt, working his way around behind Spock's desk as he went.

By the time his shirt was discarded and tossed aside, he was sitting astride Spock's lap. "And you do your job very well, James. I have good reason to be proud of you."

Spock's thumbs traced over the old bite marks littering James' torso and shoulders. The blonde tipped his head back and gave a little shudder at the touch. "Thank you, Master Spock."

"Your marks are fading, James. Shall I refresh them for you?"

"P-please, Master Spock. Remind me who I belong to."

James arched as Spock's teeth sank into his flesh just below his collarbones. Strong hands settled in the small of his back, holding him still and keeping him from falling to the floor. Time and time again his Master had marked that same spot, until a permanent bruise marred his golden tanned skin.

The arch of his back relaxed a little as his Master released his flesh. James panted a little, his hips rolling against Spock's lap. He barely had time to catch his breath before those teeth were marking his flesh again, higher on his neck this time. The blonde sank his hands into Spock's impeccably smoothed hair, holding him there.

Spock eventually withdrew and licked over the bite to soothe it. James slumped forward, panting gently and shivering.

"Who do you belong to, James?"

"You, Master Spock. O-only you."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hopefully the next few chapters keep a little more on topic than the last one. I know, I know, I'm not making much sense, but I PROMISE I have somewhere I'm going with this.**

"Pavel."

He pulled the blanket back up over his head with a little groan. "Five more minutes..."

"Pavel, get up!" The blanket was rudely pulled off his head. Groaning again, the boy turned to look up at whoever had woken him. James stood over his bed, his hands folded over his chest and his lips turned down into a small frown. "I have to present you to Master Spock this morning and he expects you within the hour."

At the mention of Spock, the boy's face paled and he sprang out of bed. He clumsily caught the fresh clothes that James threw to him. "V-vhat does Master Spock vant from me?"

"Well, considering where he bought you, I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say you're going to be another of his pleasure slaves."

"V-vhat?"

"Get dressed, Pavel." James glared at him impatiently as the boy struggled into the tight black slacks and the ruffled grey shirt. The blonde reached out and adjusted the slim black collar around his neck. "I guess that'll have to do. Come on." He pushed the boy toward the door, chivvying him along by flapping his hands.

"James... V-vhy vould Master Spock choose m-me for a p-pleasure slave?"

"I don't really know, Pavel. And you shouldn't be asking so many questions. Didn't they teach you anything in that place?"

"Y-yes, but-"

"Then you should know to keep your mouth shut."

Pavel looked down at his toes in shame, keeping his gaze lowered as James led him through door after door and room after room. They finally stopped outside a set of double doors, lavishly painted and gilded. "This is Master Spock's room. When he calls for you, this is where you will have to come to meet him."

James put a hand to the doorknob and looked back at Pavel. "Master Spock is still asleep. You will kneel beside his bed and wait for him to wake."

The boy nodded mutely. James pushed open the doors and ushered him into the room. Padding over to the bed, where Spock lay facing the wall, the boy knelt and dipped his head. He winced as the doors thumped closed, shutting Pavel into the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I know I said I'd have an update every couple of days, but school has just been SLAYING me. This was the week that all my final assignments were due, and I was too wrapped up in those to get anything done in regards to this story. BUT. Here is an update to tide us all over until I manage to get back on my feet.**

Pavel knelt by the bed for what felt like a small eternity.

Spock was fast asleep, his immaculate black hair mussed and falling into his face. His lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of black hair fluttered as he breathed. That normally emotionally mask was softened now, almost vulnerable in sleep.

He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and let his eyes drop back to the floor. It felt strange to be looking directly at the man that had bought his loyalty and his body as quick as thought.

The sheets rustled softly and Pavel visbly flinched, his head bowing and his back arching. Spock stretched his bare arms over his head, his body arching up under the sheets.

"Pavel. Did James send you here?" His voice was still thick and languid with sleep as he pushed up on one elbow. "Why did I bother to ask? Of course he did. He knows me very well." Pavel felt those dark, depthless eyes sliding over him, taking in his uniform, his softly brushed curls, and his bowed head. "We are alone, Pavel. Do not be afraid to look at me."

The boy raised his head and looked up at the man. Spock's face was still soft, still without that mask of emotionlessness that he wore in public. His hair still tumbled into his face, but he reached up to rearrange it a little bit even as Pavel watched.

"Is... Is zhere anyzhing zhat I can do to help, Master Spock?"

Those dark eyes slid over him consideringly again, and his thin lips twitched into what might have been a smile.

"I think there is, Pavel." One slim pale hand patted the bedsheets. "Come into bed with me, boy. There is something that I am certain you can do."

A little stiffly, the boy rose from the floor and knelt on the edge of the bed. Spock, with surprising strength, grabbed him and pulled him atop him so that he straddled his waist. Pavel gasped in surprise, clutching at the sheets that covered his Master's chest.

Spock smiled up at him, holding his hips. "Something the matter, Pavel?"

"Of c-course not, Master Spock."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Oh my God, guys, I completely forgot about this story in the midst of some personal drama. But here you go, here's a LONG overdue update with some apology semi-smut to carry you guys over.**

Most of Spock was still covered by the white cotton sheets, soft under Pavel's hands and lightly creased under the boy's legs. The Master stared up at him quietly, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Even through the sheet and the fairly sturdy fabric of his trousers, Pavel could feel the much larger male's hard length pressed against the inside of his thigh.

"M-Master Spock..."

"They taught you what to do in that place, didn't they?" As Pavel nodded, Spock pushed him down and pulled the white sheets out of the way. The young slave's bottom lip trembled as his eyes raked over the flushed flesh presented to him. "Then care for your Master like you've been taught to."

Green eyes flicked up to Spock's face. Finding no sympathy there, Pavel dropped his gaze again. His eyes closed as he leaned forward, wincing at the first taste of too-warm skin.

* * *

James had been waiting outside the door for either Spock or Pavel to emerge. When the door opened, the newest addition to Spock's household came stumbling out, pale as a sheet and barely able to stand. James moved to catch him and was rudely shoved away as Pavel made his way back to his room.

He caught the door before it could close and let himself in. Spock was sitting on the edge of the bed, his blankets tugged across his lap. "Master Spock?"

"He's still very new," the larger male said softly, glancing up at James with a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Did he fail in his duty?" James collected a shirt, jacket, tie, and trousers from the wardrobe, standing next to his Master to help him dress.

"Not exactly. He did what I asked, but he did not do so willingly." Spock held his arms out for the shirt, sighing as the silk glided over his skin. He lifted his chin a bit to allow James to do up the buttons and fasten the tie around his neck.

James bent down to pick up the trousers and slide them up his Master's legs, tanned fingers brushing against pale thighs. He spoke again as he did up the zip and the button. "He'll come around, Master Spock. I did... I'm sure he will be no different."

"Thank you for your faith, James." He bent slightly to catch the driver's full lips with his, just once. Taking the jacket from the blonde he slung it around his shoulders. "If you would... Have Nyota lay out breakfast. I have a few things to attend to before I eat."

"Of course, Master Spock."


End file.
